Marriage felt like home to me. Thomas and I weren’t flawless, but our first year was full of cozy talks, shared laughs, and failed pancake mornings. I poured my heart into planning our first anniversary, practicing a fancy duck recipe and buying the designer tie he’d eyed months ago. The table glowed with candles, and I wore my favorite dress, ready for a perfect night. Then Thomas called. “I’m heading to the airport,” he said casually. “Emergency meeting.” My heart sank. “It’s our anniversary,” I said. He promised to make it up, but the words felt hollow. I hung up, staring at the table set for two, refusing to let the night go to waste. A bubble bath sounded better than sulking.
The doorbell interrupted my soak. Wrapped in a towel, I found a delivery man with a ribbon-tied box. “For Anna,” he said, noting it was anonymous. My spirits lifted—maybe Thomas planned a surprise. I opened it to find a cake, but the golden icing read, “It’s time to get divorced!” A card inside said, “Hope you take this like he did. XOXO.” My mind reeled—was this a cruel prank? Then my mother-in-law, Gloria, called, chirping, “Happy anniversary! How’s the ring?” I hadn’t gotten a ring. Thomas always gave gifts in the morning, but today, nothing. “It’s lovely,” I lied, heart racing. She gushed about Thomas staying at our old romantic hotel, urging me to surprise him. Suspicion grew—the cake, the note, the missing ring. I booked a flight.
I raced to the airport, doubts swirling. Was Thomas cheating? At the hotel, I got his room number and knocked, pulse pounding. A stunning brunette opened the door, smirking in a silk dress. “Thomas is showering,” she said. His clothes were on the bed. Rage surged, and I smashed the cake in her face, icing splattering. She shrieked, slipping on the floor. I stormed toward the bathroom, ready to confront Thomas, but stopped short. Gloria stood there, sipping champagne, smirking. “You weren’t supposed to barge in,” she said. She admitted orchestrating it all, wanting me gone, believing her model friend Alicia was better for Thomas. “The cake was my touch,” she laughed. I revealed my phone, recording since I entered. Thomas’s voice boomed, furious, promising to meet me.
Gloria’s smugness faded. I left, telling Alicia the cake looked great on her. In the lobby, Thomas arrived, stunned. “My mom’s out of control,” he said. Over dinner, we talked quietly. He gave me a ring, his real gift, not Gloria’s lie. I teased about the tie waiting at home, warning no more anniversary trips. We laughed, reclaiming the night. Gloria’s schemes wouldn’t break us, and I’d shown her my boundaries were firm. More battles might come, but I was ready to stand my ground, stronger than ever.
